


His Private Kingdom

by Gypsymoon77



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:57:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2446220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsymoon77/pseuds/Gypsymoon77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in his life, Dean Winchester feels free.</p>
<p>Just a little drabble set before the events of "Black".</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Private Kingdom

Dean surveyed the barroom of The Black Spur, his own private little kingdom. He was finally free. Free from the pressures of being the man – no the soldier – that John Winchester had wanted him to be. Free from the haunting memories of the night that his mother had died. Free from his miserable life on the road, moving from town to town, hunting down the next nonhuman thing to kill.

The best part was that he was never going to see Sam or Cas again. And he didn't care.

The thought of his brother and the angel made him feel nothing. No sadness, no happiness, no regret. Just blissful nothing. If thought about them, Sam jokingly calling him “jerk” or the funny way Cas' mouth quirked upward when he smiled, Dean remained impassive as if he was thinking about two strangers he had just happen to pass on the street. They simply didn’t matter to him him anymore.

And it was a relief.

At least that's what he told himself as he knocked back another beer, ignoring the buzzing cellphone, the display reading “SAM CALLING”. Again. Damn, didn't the kid ever learn? The call went to voice mail and Dean went back to admiring Anne Marie as she strolled pass with a drink order. He caught her eye and winked, earning him a dubious smile. She was finally started to warm up to him. Wouldn't be too much longer...

Crowley flopped down into the chair next to him, glancing down at the screen of his cell. “Which was it this time? Moose or Wings?” he asked casually, glancing around the bar with undisguised disdain.

Dean ignored the question and popped another pretzel in his mouth, waving down Anne Marie and pointing to the King of Hell to let her know they needed another beer. The waitress took one look at the demon and rolled her eyes, before heading over to the bar to grab the bottle. She brought it back, setting it with a clunk in front of Crowley, earning her a sneer from the demon.

“There you go, your Majesty,” she quipped, before turning and sauntering off, her hips swinging like a pendulum.

Dean snorted into his beer. Poor kid, she didn't have a clue how close to the truth she was.

“Charming,” muttered Crowley, turning back to his compatriot. “Please, Squirrel, just shag her already so we can leave this hellhole.”

The newly-minted Knight of Hell snickered. “Geez, Crowley, isn't it a little hypocritical for _you_ to call a place a hellhole?”

The demon glared at him and stood regally, snatching up his beer. “If you need me, I will be outside. I have a few calls to make.”

Dean smiled after the retreating King of Hell. In a way, he was a lot more fun to tease than Sam. His little brother would just get angry and accuse him of picking a fight. Crowley always acted so comically affronted. Dean glanced back at his cell, the screen showing he had a new voice message. He sighed and deleted that one, just like he had all the others.

“Just let me go, Sammy,” he muttered, as he looked up and waved Anne Marie over. He needed another beer.

 


End file.
